Sunday, October 13, 2013

A few years ago, I was signing
books outside the dealers’ room at the Marcon science fiction convention. A man
approached the table and spent a few minutes looking over my books.

“I might as well take this one,”
he said, after picking up a copy of my novel Nekropolis. “I’m getting it for my wife. It was her birthday a
couple weeks ago, and I forgot to get her anything. Just write inside that you’re
sorry it’s late.”

I looked at him. “Do you mean
write that you’re sorry?”

“No, write that you’re sorry.”

I looked at him again, a bit
longer this time, then I shrugged and then signed it to his wife, adding I’m sorry your husband forgot to get you a
present. Then I signed my name, handed him the book, and he walked off
without checking to see what I wrote. I have a feeling that his present was
most likely not well received.

The book-signing is one of the
most common tools in a writer’s promotional arsenal, especially with the
increase in self-publishing. When I was first starting to learn about marketing
and promotion sometime in my twenties, the common wisdom old pros would pass
down to us newbies in those pre-Internet days was that most self-promotional
efforts were wasted time. The best way for your books to reach readers was to
partner with a traditional publisher who could get your work into bookstores
and who (might) spend a little money on promotion for you. Doing readings, signings,
and attending cons were only worthwhile if you enjoyed such activities. (Or, as
some of the more cynical pros would say, if you need to do those things to feel
like a “real” writer.) Self-promotional efforts wouldn’t put any money into
your pocket, and you’d be lucky to connect with one or two readers. And in the
case of cons, you’d have to lay out your own money for travel expenses, food,
etc. Bottom line, as far the pros were concerned: you’d be better off staying
home and writing.

As I began publishing more
regularly, I tried various self-promotional activities for myself, and my
experience bore out the old pros’ advice. So while I was still happy to do
signings, readings, panels, or workshops at a con, I stopped seeking out
promotional opportunities. Occasionally, someone would contact me and ask if I
could do a writing workshop for their school or organization, and I’d say yes.
But otherwise, I was done.

But as the years passed, and more
small-presses sprang up and more writers self-published, I began to see more
writers doing promotional activities, especially signings. I wondered if times
had changed enough that it might be worth it for me to try doing more
promotion. I also began to wonder if, after publishing for so many years, I was
getting lazy. So when a library not far from Cleveland contacted me and asked
me to participate in their upcoming book fair, I said yes. The library was a
three-hour drive from where I lived, but they had a bookseller coming in who
would have presenters’ books for sale, so I wouldn’t have to schlep my own
copies, and I’d never done any promotion in that part of the state. They also
wanted me to be on a publishing panel with several other writers to kick off
the event. I knew that money-wise, I’d be in the hole when it was done, but I
wanted the experience. Besides, I try to take advantage of whatever
opportunities present themselves (which often means I end up committing to more
than I can comfortably do, but that’s a topic for another blog post). You never
know what connections you might make, how they may pay off down the road, etc.

The library was new, big, modern,
and extremely cool. As soon as I saw it, I thought that maybe this event would
turn out to be something special. (I can hear some of you out there laughing
already.) The opening panel wasn’t well attended. Less than a dozen people came.
My fellow panelists were all literary writers who taught at area colleges, and
the panel went well enough. Afterward, I asked a fellow panelist if he was
going to stay for the book fair, and he laughed. “I did it last year. I’m going
to skip it this time.”

His response did not bode well.

Soon after, many other writers
arrived and began setting up their displays. The bookstore people came, and
while they had my books, they didn’t have the new novel by one of my fellow
panelists who did decide to stay for the fair, so she packed up and left, looking
rather relieved to have an excuse to duck out, I thought. Then the fair began.

People trickled in steadily over
the next few hours, but almost none of them bought books, and they certainly
didn’t buy any of mine. I had a small poster and some fliers, but after
checking them out, people would say some variation of “Horror? I can’t read
that stuff. It keeps me up at night” and move on. Less than an hour after the
fair began, most of the authors (who all appeared to be self-pubbed) started
wandering around, introducing themselves to one another, swapping business
cards, and asking for leads on other book fairs they might be able to attend to
sell their books. (And asking me how much I had to pay to get my books
published.) It was one of the most surreal – and sad – displays I’ve seen when
it comes to self-promotional events. The librarians in charge were perplexed
and dismayed that very few people came.”Maybe if we’d publicized the event more
. . .” one of them told me.

The next signing I did was at the
World Horror Convention. I participated in the mass signing at the con, and I did
sign some books. But since the con was in New Orleans, few people bought books
that weekend. They were saving their money for food and booze, and who could
blame them? You have to have priorities in life. I saw one writer who had a
stack of his new novel at his table. No one came to visit him until he put up a
hastily scrawled sign that said FREE BOOKS! He had visitors then – as long as
his supply held out. People will always take a free book. I wonder how many of
those books get read, though.

The next signing event I did after
WHC was during the spring residency for Seton Hill University’s MFA in Writing
Professional Fiction program, in which I serve as a mentor. The signing was
actually put on by the program’s alumni, as part of the In Your Write Mind
workshop they conduct during residencies. Between workshop presenters, program
faculty, and alumni, there were dozens upon dozens of writers in attendance.
Who knows, maybe close to hundred. There were certainly enough of us to fill an
entire gym. I thought there would be a bookseller with faculty’s books for sale.
There wasn’t. The organizers didn’t even have a name card for me or an assigned
table. (I hard to write my name on a piece of paper for myself.) The organizers
did an amazing job overall, so I figure I probably screwed up something along
the way, forgot to email them or double-check that they received an email from
me, etc. So no hard feelings on my part. I found a spot next to Lucy A. Snyder,
who had a professional display of her books, along with the Bram Stoker Award
she had won a couple weeks previously. I had brought some promotional postcards
to pass out, but that was it. It was a bit embarrassing. I’ve published over
thirty novels by this point, and I knew I should’ve brought at least a few
copies with me, just in case.

So when the next signing came around, I was determined to do it right. I went
to Staples and bought display stands for my books, I made my own nameplate so I
wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else to make me one, I got a square card reader
for my phone so I could take credit and debit card payments, I got a bloody
gauze Halloween tablecloth to drape over the table, and I packed up a couple
boxes of books. The signing took place at the Context science fiction convention
last month, and again it was a mass signing, with maybe a dozen different
writers in attendance. It went on for two hours, and I didn’t sell a single
book. I signed several that people had brought with them or bought at the con,
though.

So what did I learn from these
signings over the last year?

·Mass
signings sound good to event organizers, but people only have so much money to
spend. The more writers in attendance, the fewer (if any) books individual
writers will sell. And of course, it’s harder to stand out in a crowd when
there actually is a crowd.

·The
old pros were right. Signings in general probably don’t do much to promote
writers, but if you’re going to be at an event anyway, it doesn’t hurt to
participate in a signing.

·If
you’re going to do signings, bring your shit with you. Always.

·Have
free stuff people can take (but not your books!). As I mentioned before, I have
a promotional postcard that has several book covers of mine on it. I also have
a piece of flash fiction printed on the back.

·If
I wasn’t so damned lazy, I might make chapbooks of some of my how-to-write and
how-to-publish articles to pass out at signings. People are most interested in
what they can get from you, not what
they can do for you. Many of the people
at writing events want to become published writers themselves, and you can make
that work for you. Whether such a chapbook would result in sales of your
fiction is, not to make a pun, another story. But it might be worth a try.

·The
most valuable commodity any of us possess is time. Only do promotional events
like readings if you believe they’ll be worth the time you’ll spend to do them.